


Visage of a God

by Chromadetta



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Halloween, M/M, Makeup, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27310870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromadetta/pseuds/Chromadetta
Summary: Hubert has to pick up after yet another one of Ferdinand’s messes when he decides what would really sell his costume is a full face of makeup.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37
Collections: Fodlan Frights Halloween Exchange 2020





	Visage of a God

**Author's Note:**

> For Kyra.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

“I suggest you do a better job keeping your composure if you don’t want me to poke one of your eyes out by accident.”

“I can hardly help it! If you were met with an insufferable stuff-shirt offering to do your eyeliner, you’d be stifling a laugh as well.”

“Well, if I was the one incapable of putting on said eyeliner, I would do my best to ensure I hold my tongue lest the generous benefactor decide you’re not worth his time.”

“Are you saying I’m not worth your time, Hubert?”

Hubert scoffs as he leans back to reapply more of the light sienna to his brush. “I’m saying you should pipe down if you want me to continue. I’ve had enough of your mocking.”

The glint of amusement in Ferdinand’s eyes tugs at his heartstrings in a way Hubert posits he’ll never become accustomed to. Despite years worth of exposure to the peculiar array of feelings Ferdinand’s existence stirs, he still finds himself grappling with the intensity the smallest interactions inspire.

Ferdinand breathes a soft chuckle through a lopsided grin as he obliges Hubert once more. Falling silent, he allows his lids to flutter closed. It only takes a few more dabs before the eyeshadow can be put aside for the aforementioned liner.

Goddess, Ferdinand had made such a mess of himself in his first attempts. Broken, smudged lines that could hardly even be called a line with how much they wobbled. Hubert had no choice but to take pity on the man. He never thought his role in Edelgard’s childhood ballet recitals would come to serve him outside the setting. Though he supposes that at least his work as the sole member of her hair and makeup department paid off.

He remembers his panic. Only a mere seven years old when in a fluke of tardiness no one could spare a moment in the rush of eleven bodies hurrying to prepare themselves. He had to learn quickly then for her sake. And he perfected the technique as well as he could thereafter.

Still, Hubert is not particularly shocked this is the scenario requiring him to recall something from so long ago. Ferdinand was always excessive in his approach. There always had to be some degree of fanfare or it wasn’t Ferdinand.

He decided early on he should strive for something laid back yet elegant. Settling on Apollo for this year. Of course plastic laurels and billowing fabric alone wouldn’t transform him so entirely. So, he fell back on his perceived answer to all costuming problems: makeup.

Didn’t matter he hadn’t a lick of an idea how to apply it. Didn’t think that the women in his life may be busy with their own costumes for the night. He was a fool to think he’d be doing anything other than tearing his hair out trying to make it work. He was lucky Dorothea could spare him any supplies to salvage something out of as it was.

He was truly hopeless, that man.

Yet somehow Hubert manages to find these fleeting moments of naivety endearing.

In all honesty, Hubert was utterly captivated by him. More than he ever thought possible. Taken by the way his eyelids fluttered shut as he sweeps the shimmering powder along his cheekbones. Entranced by the adoration that gleamed back through his lashes between pauses. Enamored by the warmth they held as he traced a fine line along his eyelids. Accentuating how brightly they burned.

Once he manages a gentle gradient between lipstick and gloss he’ll be finished. And seeing each element come together spurs an immense satisfaction for a job well done.

He pulls away to admire his handiwork. Breath catching as he does.

The shimmering gold and blended bronze cast Ferdinand as a man permanently bathed in the light of the setting sun. His lips a pale apricot to deepening marmalade that invites onlookers to ponder how they might taste beneath their shine. Even Hubert, privy to how sweet Ferdinand is on his tongue, desires to indulge himself. He is stunning in every sense of the word.

Ferdinand’s curious gaze snaps him from his stupor before his mind can wander too far. He gestures to the mirror, permitting him to view the finished product.

He turns so eagerly to face the vanity that the stillness that befalls him is a chilling contrast to Hubert’s initial impressions.

Ferdinand’s eyes are firmly locked on the mirror as he leans in toward it, unblinking. Hubert had rarely known him to be struck speechless. Still unsure of whether the reaction is positive or not, his concern only grows as the silence stretches on. He clears his throat hoping it will break the tension cast over the room.

“Well. There you are.”

Another beat.

“I uh. Hope you find it sufficient.”

He’s beginning to think that he’s done some reprehensible damage when Ferdinand breaks out of his trance. He whips around, grabbing his sleeve. Amber pools alight with bewilderment.

“Is that really me, Hubert?” Ferdinand’s voice shakes as he speaks. A tremor Hubert doesn’t quite understand.

“Yes. Do you not like it?” His reply is cautious. Afraid still of where this conversation may turn.

“No, no. It’s not that.” Ferdinand shakes his head dismissively before resuming his owlish stare at his reflection. “It’s just… I look so handsome. Beautiful even. You’ve truly outdone yourself. This is outstanding work.”

“You flatter me.”

Ferdinand sends him a stern look. “I don’t deal in empty compliments, you know.”

“True enough.” He pulls his chair beside him, taking one of Ferdinand's hands between gloved fingers. “But neither do I. So trust me when I say that you looking handsome has nothing to do with my skills.”

Ferdinand’s smile returns easily then with the short laugh that follows. He scoots closer, resting his head on Hubert’s shoulder as they peer into the mirror together.

“Oh, I know I’m quite the catch,” Ferdinand hums. “But it’s not every day you look in the mirror and see some long forgotten god before you see yourself.”

“Rather self-absorbed to compare your looks to a god,” Hubert remarks.

“It has nothing to do with my looks and everything to do with your talents.” Ferdinand shoots back before sitting up. “You made me look like I don't even belong to this world.”

Hubert ponders the statement. Then elects to simply extend his reach, tucking a stray strand behind Ferdinand’s ear. “Then I’m glad I could do you justice.”

Ferdinand flushes at the gesture, his eyes hazing over slightly. There’s a weighted stillness before he makes a move forward. Aiming to close the gap between them. Hubert wonders if he’s ever wanted something so strongly.

He could never get enough of the essence that was Ferdinand. Seeing him like this, seeped in the colors of the setting sun. It only made him want to worship him more. Trail kisses from his hands to his neck. Drink the honeyed moans that spill from his lips. Thread his fingers through his hair and listen for the stray notes of his dearest held melody. How he would love to have him like this. Forget the party. Forget anything that might distract from the magnificent sight before him. This was where his attention belonged. Undivided and uninterrupted.

They’re a hair’s width apart when Ferdinand pulls away and Hubert wants to scream.

Ferdinand’s cheeks are still dusted rose and his words breathless when he speaks. “I suppose I shouldn’t kiss you in case it ruins all your hard work.”

There’s some semblance of remorse in his tone. But the physical lurch in his chest, if not elsewhere, at the drop in proximity still makes it hard to forgive.

“No, it would be best if you didn’t. As much as I’d rather otherwise.” Hubert says tightly. Not wanting to portray any more emotion than is strictly necessary.

They share a moment of silence basking in the other’s presence. Waiting for their hearts to slow and heat in their cheeks to fade. The night is young. If they are lucky, they’ll have the rest of the midnight hours to their pleasure. Though if they want to be punctual for their commitments, they should keep moving.

Arm in arm, they fade into the night. Awaiting the promise of good company and an evening well spent.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
